


Enjoy The Experience

by Slashy Goodness (allmadhere)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadhere/pseuds/Slashy%20Goodness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Cooperstown Preparatory School was prestigious, renown throughout the country for its graduates moving on to Ivy League universities then fame and wealth beyond. Getting in was no small task and Patrick breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he sank gratefully into his homeroom seat. He might have been more into music than academics but the arts program here was nothing to sneeze at either. He'd begged and thrown more hissy fits than he cared to count to get his parents to cover what the scholarships didn't and let him live on campus. He was sixteen, a sophomore now, so he could handle it. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjoy The Experience

**Author's Note:**

> a private school AU prompt from anon_lovefest.
> 
> Prompt: "Either Pete/Patrick or any panic pairing you want, maybe either an office AU or private school AU (where they have uniforms). So long as there is making out and ties being pulled (frottage is loved but not required) I will be content."

The Cooperstown Preparatory School was prestigious, renown throughout the country for its graduates moving on to Ivy League universities then fame and wealth beyond. Getting in was no small task and Patrick breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he sank gratefully into his homeroom seat. He might have been more into music than academics but the arts program here was nothing to sneeze at either. He'd begged and thrown more hissy fits than he cared to count to get his parents to cover what the scholarships didn't and let him live on campus. He was sixteen, a sophomore now, so he could handle it. Right?

"Hey there. Are you in the wrong room or something?" He looked up. And up. And still up. Finally, he found a face at the very top of a tall stick of a person, frowning down at him with a touch of concern and a flip of his longish brown locks. He was pretty, Patrick had to admit even if he was most certainly not gay in any sense of the word, all sharp lines and long limbs that had to love wrapping around--. No. No! He was here to learn, goddamnit! And he was not going to question his sexuality, okay? Girlfriend! He totally had one! Mostly...

"N-no?" he stuttered out and Patrick could have slapped himself for being so nervous. "I'm a transfer. Errr, my name's Patrick. Patrick Stumph."

The other boy smiled brightly and Patrick blinked in confusion. "Oh, so you're the new kid. Interesting. I'm Bill Beckett." Bill fell into the seat next to Patrick, somehow managing to drape himself artfully at the desk in the process. "I'll take you on a quick tour once classes are over, okay?" He said it in such a way that brooked no argument, despite the fact that Patrick had already been given a tour by a slightly surly looking senior named Andy Hurley, if memory served.

He just had to sit back and enjoy the experience, right?

 

Two months in and Patrick considered himself pretty well acquainted with the place by this point. He wasn't constantly adjusting his stuffy uniform and the teachers had finally accepted that he just fucking needed his hat. It may have taken nearly being expelled after dislocating the chemistry professor's jaw to get the point across but it was now painfully clear.

The only kink in his plan was Pete Wentz and his somewhat stalkerish tendencies. Not that Patrick had a problem with the guy. He seemed nice enough, if a bit clinically insane. In Patrick's first week, Pete managed to not only destroy the majority of one of the dorm wings but he managed to sweet talk his way out of trouble with Dean Hoppus. There were rumors that cephalopod smuggling was somehow involved and Patrick had no idea what to even make of that. Pete's stalking didn't make sense either. Everyone was fairly certain he had a very (exceedingly) attractive girlfriend back home but, like Dean Hoppus' octopi, Pete kept more or less mum on the issue.

Even if the girlfriend turned out to be nothing more than a strange rumor, it still didn't explain why Pete would stalk Patrick, of all people. He'd stare adoringly across rooms. In one extremely bizarre case, Pete had managed to gaze dreamily at Patrick from a room across the hall while Patrick was giving a presentation on Emily Dickinson. He knew it was Pete and not one of his classmates. He'd know the weight of that stare anywhere. Whenever they were close enough, Pete would fiddle with Patrick's uniform, unbuttoning the shirt and straightening the tie and collars, then grazing light butterfly touches that made Patrick shudder and sigh if he wasn't ready for them. Patrick knew even less about the sighing than he did about the touching and it was all very disconcerting.

 

If he was honest with himself, it had been like that since approximately 48 hours after they met, which was about 72 hours after his arrival at the Academy. Bill hadn't been able to give Patrick a tour the after the first day of classes because of some inexplicable mandatory assembly at which Deans Hoppus and Barker had given less-than-clear speeches and announced the newly instated student council, which prompted some kid in oversized sunglasses to pop out of his seat and scream 'welcome to the new administration!' to the sniggers of all. When they'd gone to dinner and later to Bill's room, he and his roommate, Gabe, had been too busy laughing at the guy's antics to remember the promised tour.

The next day, however, Bill took Patrick around the campus, pointing out all the best spots for 'quick kisses, quick gropes, and quick fucks'. Patrick had looked up at him, a little wide-eyed, but said nothing. Bill just shook his head and laughed. "Patrick, you're at an all-boys school now and there's not a single girl for miles. Besides, they're all at the all-girls school and you know what that means." Patrick just ogled his back for a second longer before catching up to Bill's long strides.

It wasn't long after that when they came across Pete and Brian Diaz, doing something that couldn't possibly within school rules. Pete had grinned broadly at them, eyes lingering maybe a bit longer and raking over Patrick. Patrick blushed, what was he supposed to do? The grin may have swiftly turned into a smirk. Bill just shook his head and dragged Patrick away before anyone could say anything.

"Look," Bill said sternly, "Wentz and Diaz are plotting a prank. You don't want to be around them until it's over, okay? Otherwise, you could be implicated and have to hope Pete manages to sweet talk you out of trouble too." This was first of many times that, in retrospect, Patrick was so glad he had someone like Bill.

 

And so it was that Patrick happened to be walking by one of those shady little nooks, minding his own business and on his way to one of the music rooms, when a pair of arms shot out and he found himself pulled violently into the face of one Pete Wentz. His eyes were surrounded by heavy dark circles that really only served to make his honey-colored eyes look brighter. Patrick bit at his lip, thinking of all the ways he wouldn't mind getting lost in those eyes, and watched as they darkened and the lids slid to half-mast.

"Fuck you and fuck your lips, Stump," the boy growled as he wrapped his hand in Patrick's tie. Before Patrick could utter a single word in protest to the abuse of his favorite tie, he was yanked forward by the accessory and crashed into the mouth before him. Pete kissed the way did everything else: fast and with just enough reckless abandon for one to question his sanity. At least he was polite enough to let Patrick have his silent freak-out without pushing too hard, only licking and nipping at the lips he was apparently fixated on. "Wanted you so much," Pete whispers against Patrick's lips, and really, what was Patrick supposed to do? He was a teenager and male to boot. The second he let himself, his dick would surely try leading a charge straight into Pete's pants. He let out a moan of frustration.

"Look, Pete," he muttered, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the other boy's 'fuck me now' face because that had to be one of the most distracting things he'd ever seen. "Pete, we can't, okay? We just... can't."

"Says who?" Pete asked quietly, his voice sounding, for some ridiculous reason, like waves crashing over rocks at the beach in the early pre-dawn hours. "I'm of the school of thought that if you want something, you reach out..." He unraveled Patrick's tie from around his hand and slipped the hat from Patrick's head. Patrick whimpered and leaned into the touch against his will. Pete tossed the hat behind him and further into the nook. "Reach out and take it."

With that, Pete grabbed Patrick's tie again and pulled him close. This time, though, Pete aligned their bodies so their cocks rubbed together through their khaki slacks and both boys hissed in pleasure. This moment wasn't going to last long and they both knew it. Not with Pete licking and nipping and whispering into Patrick's neck, making him make these keening noises that just seemed to goad Pete on.

"Fuck, Pete," Patrick groaned as he dragged his practically burning hands down Patrick's side, curling them around his ass and squeezing as he pulled him closer. Patrick merely whimpered and buried his hands in Pete's hair and gently tugging him away from his neck. Pete's irises were nearly overtaken by his pupils, they were so dilated with lust, his lips swollen from their bruising kisses. Patrick just swallowed and bit at his lower lip. Pete leaned in and kissed him hard again, grinding, muttering, and panting into the kiss. Patrick let his hands slide out oh Pete's hair and around his neck.

"Pete, Pete, Pete," he moaned again, lips moving over Pete's and hips stuttering against each other with barely a semblance of rhythm and it was too much to take. He was still just a teenaged boy, after all. He came hard, clutching at Pete and making this high trilling noise into their kiss. Pete's fingers tightened their grip on Patrick's ass and pulled him closer, making the shake of Pete's thighs and the spreading warmth as he came feel even more real.

"Shit," Pete murmured, smiling lazily as he tucked his face into Patrick's neck. His fingers released their death grip and soothed over what would surely become bruises. "That really wasn't the plan. I don't general come in my pants but... just... your fucking mouth, 'Trick, and that ass and those thighs..." He gave a quiet little laugh and sighed into Patrick's shoulder. "Look, I've got a single. Come to my room after dinner. Bring some ties, alright? I don't think I have enough for everything I want to do." Pete gave that sly smirk that Patrick had been seeing on him so often lately and Patrick blushed.

"Okay." Pete gave him another kiss, just a chaste peck on the lips really, before ducking out of their nook. Patrick leaned back against the wall, fingers tracing over his lips and neck to find the beginnings of a trail of hickeys leading down to his collar bone. He stopped suddenly, the post-coital glow finally letting him think.

There were still five fucking hours until dinner, he was late for his ensemble rehearsal, and Bill was going to be there and he'd fucking know. He glanced at his watch, weighing his options before swiftly coming to a decision. He'd go back to his room, change, text Bill some excuse about being sick, break up with his semi-girlfriend, and gather every tie that was more than likely his. Gerard probably wouldn't notice if he took one of his by accident anyway.

Really, it was all just part of the experience.


End file.
